Crisis, Book One of the Succession War
by Hourai Rabbit
Summary: No one really acknowledges it.  Okay maybe they do, at the very end, but the ending of Princess Waltz still leaves a host of problems unsolved.  This one is probably the worst.  A speculative piece then, on what I think the future would look like.


**PROLOGUE**

Once upon a time there was a land that was beset by chaos. The land was splintered apart by war and mistrust, and it wept in sorrow as everything that made it great was turned to ash. A stain upon the face of time. The land was patient, though. The war ended for a time when those who fought it were completely spent. They would rebuild their homes and pick up the ashes of their lives and from those ashes create something new. Something wonderful. The land was happy. But nothing, not even happiness, lasts forever. Please interrupt me if you have heard this story before. A single spark was the only thing needed to set the pyres of war ablaze once more. Hey, that was a rhyme! Yet another war was fought, as always, by men. The land was drenched with blood and everything that had grown upon it once more turned to ash, to be scattered on the wind. And oh, how the wind howled! It gave voice to the outrage of the land at this desecration! But alas, the land was no match for the power of man's will. Man's feelings made them too strong and the clash of wills was as a hammer striking an anvil. Neither side would break! It seemed as though the cycle would continue forever.

But what no one realized – no one ever realizes – is that a force as powerful as the feelings of man can work both ways, for peace as well as war. Such was the power of the hero who united the land split asunder into seven parts and-

"The legend of the founding. We have all heard the tale, or at least some version of it."

April stopped abruptly. She was not used to being interrupted, in spite of the fact that she had specifically asked for such an interruption, and her face turned stern. She was every inch the governess and maid. Her expression softened into its usual, flighty self as she turned to regard the one who had interrupted her. The girl had the most striking green eyes and although they were somewhat timid there was a touch of iron behind that feigned glare. For April, it was almost nostalgic.

"Lady Iris", she said, curtsying as she did, "you should know from your studies that tales often change with the telling, especially with time and this _legend_, as you so aptly described it, has been told for a thousand years. Incidentally, did you know that the word "legend" implies that at least some part of it is not true?"

Iris stiffened. Her lips tightened and her eyes flashed, but she remained silent. Her left hand spoke for her though, gripping the throne in front of her until her knuckle turned white. April smirked slightly. A princess really should know better.

A deep baritone echoed from the man seated upon that throne, across the marble hall, "Our daughter speaks out of turn. But we believe that her point is reasonable. Please, April, tell us where this history lesson is leading." The voice of a man accustomed to his authority and weighed down by his years.

April merely smiled, "Very well-put, Your Majesty. History has everything to do with why I have come here. You see, I bring grave tidings from the battlefield."

The Kingdom of Soldia was involved in no wars at present, save one.

"The Waltz!" cried one of the courtiers to April's right.

The uproar was instant. A thousand predictable questions rang out at April before she could even begin to consider how she would answer them. Were we successful? Who will be the one to rule Seven Central? What of the unsettling disturbances that had been reported in the Guarden? The barrage continued. It was the king himself who called for quiet. A simple raised hand, clad in a gauntlet of gunmetal grey and the din became a hush. Such was the power of he who ruled Soldia, greatest of the seven kingdoms.

"What of the Waltz, April? Was Princess Iris victorious?"

She sighed, an exaggerated, almost comical act. Then she began, "Unfortunately, Your Majesty, I must be known forever as the storm crow or the bearer of bad news. Princess Iris was not the winner of this generation's Princess Waltz."

As April spoke she could feel the shadows of the day creeping even longer across the white marble floor of the court. The distance between the pillars seemed to lessen and the frescoes adorning the walls seemed to loom above her. The courtiers, once so distant and scattered about the vast hall, pressed in closer to hear the news they did not wish to know. Their curiosity became chains that dragged them ever closer. Then, like a wave, it all crashed down upon her and she was once again assailed by the noise and outrage. This was nothing new to the blue-haired maid. She had experienced far worse during these past few weeks.

Again the king raised his hand, appealed for silence. Again the court acquiesced to his wishes as they knew they must.

"But", April continued, "Princess Iris is not here." With this statement she turned to the Iris standing at her father's shoulder and favoured her with a wink, "This means that she was not defeated in the Waltz. I can confirm that over the course of the battle, the princesses of Palmeid and Rentstanza were cast down. What happened next I do not know but when I was able to observe once more, the Waltz had ended and, for the first time, with no clear victor."

Instead of shouting and arguing amongst themselves, the court was silent. It seemed that got their attention. Man never changes, April noted with amusement. Moments passed. Still the silence remained. Not even the wind could be heard. Someone coughed, behind April and to the left. All heads turned towards the embarrassed servant, who hung his head and retreated in to the shadows near a fresco of Iris, the first queen. As always, it was the king who spoke first.

"Do the other kingdoms know?"

"They will, in time", April replied.

"Why are you telling us this? What is your gain?"

April shrugged. Once again an exaggerated gesture but it seemed that this was the style among young and beautiful girls these days and April certainly believed that impressions had to be lived up to.

"Oh, Your Majesty I am wounded that you would suspect me of something as base as deception. That is the farthest thing from my mind! I am merely doing what any patriot would do in this situation. A kingdom must have a king, as well you know, and a king must have a queen. If there is no queen, well."

A succession crisis. The unspoken truth. A truth unheard of for a thousand years but, as April herself had said, nothing lasts forever. Not even the unbroken line of Eldhin. Curtsying deeply, April walked out of the court of Soldia in silence, letting her words colour the imaginations of everyone in the hall. Their minds would create the details for themselves. Her part in the Act was over.

The possibility was too shocking to comprehend for a country like Seven Central that had never known strife. The rule of the Waltz, so absolute in the past, had been thrown into disarray.

"Can we believe her, father?" asked Iris, ever the dutiful eldest daughter. Her face, impassive during the uproar, was filled with apprehension.

In response, the king turned towards the fresco of Queen Iris, first ruler of Seven Central. The servant, returning to his proper position, merely nodded.

"Our spies have confirmed her story", the king said at length, "to the extent that the victor of the Waltz was never decided. More than that, they could not see. It seems that our worst fears have been realised, fears that we never knew we had."

There was a sudden ruffling and clanking as Iris marched down to the foot of the dais, her dress and armour contrasting oddly. She knelt before her lord, placing a palm on the tip of the pommel of a blade, sheathed at her side. The resolution that was merely an ember in her eyes when April entered the hall had grown into a terrible flame.

"Then my duty is clear. Give me the word, my lord, and I shall lead our forces to Seven Central. As a daughter of the line of the First Queen, I will enforce our claim to the throne."

"No", the king interjected, "no, my daughter. We do not know how the other kingdoms will react if we commit an act of such blatant aggression. Remember our treaty with Renstanza. And what of Agnis? Would you leave our vital fiefs so open to attack? The dragon's claws allow no openings to go unpunished."

Chastised, Iris lowered her head.

"Still", he continued, "there is no telling how the other kingdoms will react. We need to be ready when the time comes." Then, with an air of finality came the fateful command, "Assemble the army."

Then, as the court came alive once more with talk, the king's next words went unheard.

"Goodbye, my daughter."


End file.
